


always the bridesmaid

by triplesalto



Category: Women's Tennis RPF
Genre: Female Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triplesalto/pseuds/triplesalto
Summary: Madison Keys, at the 2021 US Open.
Relationships: Madison Keys & Sloane Stephens & Naomi Osaka & Monica Puig & CoCo Vandeweghe & Coco Gauff
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	always the bridesmaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clio_jlh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio_jlh/gifts).



> Dear Clio:
> 
> I love these players a lot and I couldn't resist writing you a little treat with them. I hope you like it! :D

Five minutes left.

Madison focused. She focused on her breathing, on the feel of her tennis bag bumping against her side, on the familiar rhythmic beat of the music coming through her Beats. She centered herself, deep breaths to rid herself of the butterflies in her stomach. This wasn’t her first rodeo. She knew how important calm was, here at the crux of it all.

_Always the bridesmaid, never the bride._

She knew what they were saying, those commentators up there in the booth, Chrissie and Mac, their words beaming over the airwaves to countless fans across the globe. _Madison, so talented. Never quite able to take that last step. Maybe this time. She’s the underdog again today, though._

She remembers when they all arrived together, she and the crew who have become her friends, the young Americans who took up tennis with Venus-and-Serena hero worship running through her veins. They’d all stormed into the professional tour at about the same time, full of power and dreams. Sloane, CoCo Vandeweghe, Monica, Madison, then shortly afterwards Naomi. They hadn’t _quite_ expected Serena to _still_ be ruling the tennis world – it hadn’t seemed quite fair that the woman who’d inspired them to pick up racquets when they were little more than toddlers would _still_ be more than able to thrash their butts more than a decade later – but at first it had only sharpened the hunger. Much as they loved the Williams sisters, Madison and her crew had been ready to do battle on the court and vanquish their heroines.

And then – it hadn’t happened. 

Not for Madison, anyway.

In 2016, Monica won the Olympics in Rio. In a major upset, she beat Muguruza, Kvitova, and Kerber en route, becoming the first unseeded player to win gold in modern tennis history. The first (and so far only) Puerto Rican gold medalist, she wrapped herself in the flag and won the heart of her island utterly and completely. Madison had screamed herself hoarse watching Monica defeat Kerber in the final, and cried more than one tear watching the depth of Monica’s emotion in her victory. 

(Madison, meanwhile, had finished fourth. She’d lost to Kerber in the semifinals, and Kvitova in the bronze medal match. Just one spot off the podium, one measly spot.)

In 2017, Sloane won the US Open. Coming off of an injury and therefore having to fight from an unseeded position, she’d had a tough tournament. Four of her six wins coming into the final had gone the distance, with two of those being real nailbiters. In the quarterfinals she’d been forced to a match tiebreak with Sevastova, and in the semifinals she’d taken down Venus 7-5 in the third. But in the final she’d been in high form, thrashing her opponent 6-3 6-0, the outcome never in doubt. She’d become the new star of American tennis, her megawatt smile dazzling all.

(Madison, meanwhile, had been that thrashed finals opponent. So much joy, to reach the final, and so much disappointment, when it all went south. She’d been so close, and yet so far.)

In 2018, Naomi won the US Open, defeating Serena in a memorable final. Afterwards, much of the talk was about Serena’s loss of calm, her fight with the umpire and the penalty that she was issued, but all Madison remembered when she thought about that tournament was Naomi’s focus and her brilliance, the way she fought and she won with amazing tennis. Madison’s not at all surprised that Naomi’s won two more Slams since then, pouring her heart and soul into all she does. 

(Madison, meanwhile, lost to Naomi in the semifinals. She’d had such a good tournament, so much hope and so much fire, and yet she’d become once again a speedbump for one of her friends. She dusted herself off and went on. What else could you do?)

So many times over the years, Madison had come so close. She’d fought so hard, and put so much of herself into her work. She’d made herself believe that one of these days, it would be her up on that podium. Just keep fighting. Keep working. Keep swimming.

They were announcing her now. She’d enter the stadium first, as the lower seeded player. Kerber loomed behind her, waiting. 

Madison squared her shoulders and marched out onto Arthur Ashe.

It felt odd to be back, a year after the Great Masked Plague Tournament. Naomi had won it, her third Slam, in a saga ripped straight from Hollywood; she wore a different Black Lives Matter mask to each match, and tore through the competition like the superstar she was, defeating Azarenka for the title. It was a triumph, and Madison – who had been considered one of the top contenders but had had to withdraw in the third round with a neck injury – had cheered her on and sent her a ridiculous number of excited emoji texts and celebratory Snapchats.

Now Madison was back, healthy and fit. She’d defeated CoCo and Sloane along the way, among others, and now she was on the court for her seventh match. One last match. One last fight.

Focus. Breathe. One foot in front of the other.

And then that focus shattered – for Madison’s box was standing up, clapping like mad.

She blinked, looking up at them. There was her coach, and her family, looking proud as punch. Her parents, both lawyers, and her three sisters, none of them tennis players, might not quite _understand_ her unyielding passion for the game, but they loved and supported her no end.

Next to them, however, and completely unexpected, was the crew.

Normally defeated players went home to lick their wounds and start practicing for the next tournament. There was no reason why the Young American Gang should be crowded into Madison’s box, waving and jumping up and down. She’d just beaten CoCo and Sloane, for goodness sake, and Naomi had been upset in the third round, and Monica had lost to Serena. And baby phenom Coco Two was there too, fresh from her semifinals appearance. 

So much American talent, so much friendship and late-night Whatsapp groupchats and therapeutic venting phonecalls. They’d become more than competitors over these years following their dreams, they’d become allies – yes, even in an individual sport. Madison had watched their dreams come true, had contributed to several of them. 

And now it was her turn, and they’d come to cheer her on.

Madison waved to her box, and found that the butterflies had disappeared.

 _Bring it on,_ she told the tennis gods.

❧

They stormed the court.

Madison should, perhaps, have expected it. Her friends weren’t exactly the low-key sort; even Naomi, who was shy, became less bashful when surrounded by boisterous company. 

Technically, _Madison_ was the one who should have climbed up to her box, been hugged by all and sundry, cried a bit on camera. It was traditional.

But maybe a new tradition wasn’t so bad, she thought.

Naomi had an arm around her waist, and Sloane was grinning so hard she might literally crack her cheeks in two, and CoCo was taking pictures, and Monica was trying to pull her into a dance, and Coco Two was telling an interviewer how happy they all were. 

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride – but today Madison was the bride. 

She laughed with the joy of it, her arms around her friends, and set her face into the bright horizon.

❧


End file.
